


Long Weekend

by achievewriting



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, but really its all just fluff, did someone say T O U C H S T A R V E D, no editing we post mistakes like men, spot the jack johnson lyric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 04:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14512521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievewriting/pseuds/achievewriting
Summary: Trevor seems intent on making you late for work.





	Long Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> [a playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1263129610/playlist/79DTV4lIcOGSxIcXRUvTem?si=2Zuhe_CzQieJNOl3R2rheQ)

On a normal morning, it’s your alarm that wakes you up.

Today, you’re awoken by the sudden panic brought with the thought of ‘unrendered art boards’.

You’re late - the light seeping through the curtains is too bright, too warm for it to be 7am. You rub your hands over your face and groan, “Fuck.” Pushing the covers away, you’re about to sit up when an arm curls around your waist.

“Well, good morning to you, too.” Rough with sleep, Trevor’s voice hints at the smile you’re sure is on his lips as he gently pulls you to his chest.

You smile as he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. “G’morning, Trev,” you say softly. Any other morning you’d gladly settle back into his arms and indulge in an extra fifteen minutes in bed, but today you’ve got places to be, sick coworkers to replace. You should have been out the door half an hour ago. So when Trevor continues to kiss a smattered trail up your neck, you squeeze his hand where it rests on your stomach. “As much as I want you to keep doing that -” you hum when he reaches the soft spot behind your ear, “I really have to go. I’m already late.”

The arm around your middle only pulls you closer, holds you tighter. “Nah,” Trevor draws the word out as his lips leave your skin. You feel him settle into the covers behind you.

“C’mon, Trev,” you sigh, “Miles is gonna have my head on a stake.” With some effort, you push his hand away.

He puts it right back before you can even move. “He won’t.”

Squeezing his hand again, you glance over your shoulder at him. His eyes are closed, but there’s a small smirk on his lips. As pretty as he is, his flippant nonchalance makes frustration crease your brow. “I’m being serious here.” You don’t mean to sound snappy, but you’re running out of time.

He opens his eyes to raise an eyebrow at you. “So am I,” he says lightly.

You squint at him.

His thumb traces soft circles where his hand holds you in place. “Have you checked Slack?”

You reach for your phone on your nightstand. Among others, there’s an unopened notification from Miles. As you read it, you sink back into the mattress. Trevor, now propped up on an elbow beside you, pushes a lock of hair behind your ear and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead as you take in the message.

The stress you’ve felt in your chest for days melts away and something warm swells in its place. Your eyes are watery when you look from your phone to Trevor smiling softly above you. “You did this?” You choke.

Trevor gives a little shrug. “You’re welcome.”

You look back to the screen in your hands: ‘ _ Don’t even think about coming in today. Yssa’s back, she’s got it handled. Chillax, thank Collins. _ ’

Tossing your phone to the side, you prop yourself up on your elbows to level your face with Trevor’s. You kiss him, soft and simple and sweet, and tears pool at the overwhelming relief and love that fills every empty, tired space inside you.

Trevor’s fingers wipe gently at the wetness on your cheek as he pulls away. “You’re crying?” His grin mirrors your own.

“No,” you scoff wetly, “I’ve just got some respite in my eye, is all.” You laugh, but hold your tongue - you haven’t told him about the other thing yet.

His grin, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and the warmth you see in them makes your heart flutter. He laughs and presses another quick kiss to your mouth, “Sure thing, baby girl.”

With a content sigh, you collapse back into the pillows and realise you had no idea how much you needed a day off. A solid week of obsessing over not just your own, but Yssa’s work too would do that to you, you suppose. Now, looking up at Trevor, the whole thing just kind of seems far away, a Monday problem. You lift your hand to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch. “Thank you,” you say sincerely.

“Well, when I watched you put your socks in the fridge last night I thought you were overdue for a break.”

You laugh and drop your hand to cover your mouth in shock, “Is that where they went?!”

“You didn’t even bat an eyelid,” he teases.

You move your hand to smooth back your hair and shake your head in disbelief. “Oh my god.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he nods. “So, you’re going to sleep in as long as you want, and when you get up, I will make you banana pancakes and we will do absolutely nothing to your heart's content.”

“You’re staying for the day?” The eagerness in your voice is embarrassing, but you can’t help it.

“I can stay for the weekend, too, if you like.”

“Yes please.” You’re blushing.

“Consider it done,” Trevor drops onto his side next to you and you slide your arm under his neck and around his shoulders. To your delight, as always, he cuddles into your side, his leg hooked between your own, his arm draped over your stomach, and his head resting in the dip of your shoulder. You pull the covers back around the two of you before your hand comes to rest in his hair, your fingers playing softly by habit. “I’m guessing you turned off my alarm?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Nice touch,” you affirm. “Perks of dating upper management, huh?”

He gasps dramatically, “Is that all I am to you? A free ride?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you deadpan with a nod. “If I paid you it would be prostitution, Trevor.”

He laughs with his whole body, and it cracks your serious disposition. As you laugh with him, that  _ love _ you keep feeling makes itself apparent again, warm and full and almost otherworldly. You really should tell him: you want to, despite your doubts and fears, and the small assortment of reasons why you could talk yourself out of it. For a moment, the words are on the tip of your tongue, until he tips his head back to look up at you, laughter leaving behind a smile on his lips that steals the air from your lungs.

It’s only a small movement to press your lips to his. As you kiss him, you decide this moment is enough as it is. You have a whole three day weekend to work up the nerve to tell him how you feel. Right now you’re warm and sleepy, you don’t have to go to work, and the whole world fits inside of your arms; you’d be damned if you changed a single thing.


End file.
